Ringing Insanity
by Sweet Jelly Hearts
Summary: Matthew isn't insane. Hearing the voices of spirits doesn't mean he's insane. Seeing spirits doesn't mean he's insane. But willingly being haunted by a spirit named Gilbert? That might be pushing it a bit. PruCan, slight USUK. Epilogue is back up!
1. An Agreement

_You know that ringing sound that you will perceive when you are in a very quiet area? Some people say this is an auditory-illusion brought about the ear's inability to detect frequencies below the threshold of the human senses. This is completely wrong. That ringing covers up something else altogether. If you are quick, patient, and maybe a little lucky, you will be able to hear past the ringing. What you will hear are voices whispering to each other. They will silence themselves quickly but with practice, you will become more adept at catching and interpreting what they are saying. You will hear things of the past, the present, and the future. However, you must be careful. Because there is no such thing as a voice without a body._

_And when you start noticing them, they will start noticing you._

Matthew shot up out of sleep, letting out a loud gasp. There was complete silence in the room besides his pounding heartbeat and the occasional loud snore filtering through the wall from his brother in the room next to his. He dropped his head into his hands, wavy blond hair falling across his fingers, along with that one curl that refused to stay in place, and urged his racing heart to slow down and be quiet. Once all was still, he spared a glance at the alarm clock next to his glasses on his bedside table. It was one in the morning. Matthew sighed and sunk back down into his covers in an attempt to both keep out the winter chill and to fall back asleep.

It had been the same nightmare he'd been having his whole life. He was surrounded by nothing and everything in a dark place, where ghostly beings and bodies whispered to each other. There were no distinguishable shapes, no way to tell who was saying what. It was hard to make out what they were whispering about, almost as if they were speaking in a different language. If they were, he'd never heard this language spoken before. The elusive shapes were always in the corner of his eye, and they would dart away whenever he tried to look. The nonsensical whispers would continue and increase until there was a cacophony of the murmurs filling his whole head, until he was suffocating, until he couldn't hear himself think. He would cover his ears, try to block out the noise, but it was like they were speaking directly in his mind. It felt as though he was slowly going insane, and when he finally collapsed to his hands and knees from the sounds, he would wake up in a panic, just like now.

This reoccurring dream was irregular. Sometimes he would go months without having it, only to have an onset of them for days, even weeks in a row. He never told anyone about these dreams, since they didn't really affect any part of his life (besides his sleeping patterns, of course). Plus, he really didn't need to be locked up in a loony bin for the rest of his life, thankyouverymuch. He would be fine coping with this little dream. Who knew? Maybe it would eventually stop tormenting him, or maybe he would finally get so used to it that it didn't bother him anymore. The latter was more likely than the former, though…

The room was silent once again. It was peaceful, snow gently drifting to the ground outside, swallowing all of the sound. Everything was still again. Even his brother's snores didn't penetrate the walls. Matthew's violet eyes fluttered shut as he tried to fall back into a warm, winter slumber.

Then he heard the ringing. It was that ringing he knew that everyone tended to get when things were quiet and still. His teacher had once explained to the class that it was just an auditory illusion that occurred because the human ear can't pick up lower sound frequencies. It was nothing, so he decided to ignore it and get some sleep.

But the ringing got louder. And louder. And louder. Finally he couldn't possibly ignore it any longer and listened to it, only to have it annoyingly disappear right when he was really paying attention. It was irritating, but at least the noise was gone, leaving nothing but silence behind. Matthew settled back down, fully intending to sleep when it interrupted again. This time he wasted no time in listening intently to the root of the sound, only to be thoroughly shocked by what he heard.

_Yo sich fragen ef ille può kuulla minket?_

It was a strange language he had never heard before, though it was hauntingly familiar, almost as if he had listened to it in a dream-

The sudden realization hit him with the force of a brick wall and caused him to sit up and clutch his head in agony. No, he couldn't be hearing them _now_, not when he was awake. Those… those dreamed-up _voices_ should be separate from his reality, and yet here he was, hearing them, clear as crystal. He tried and succeeded in shutting them out once, but they came back with more intensity. The more he listened, the more he understood what they were saying. The language itself didn't change; rather he learned it after the constant repetition.

_Can he hear us?_

_Yes, he can! Look at how he's paying attention!_

_Thank goodness! It was getting boring just gossiping with you guys!_

A chorus of HEYs followed that one's comment, but they continued with their invasion of his thoughts. They got louder and louder and louder, just like in his nightmares. He whipped his head around the room to see if there would also be the wispy figures lingering about as well, but saw nothing by the light of the pale moon streaming through his single window.

So this was how it would all end… slowly going mad while clutching his head in silent agony, listening to voices that didn't exist. Matthew started to hyperventilate, breath coming faster as he felt like collapsing as he did in his dreams, when suddenly one voice stood apart from the others, speaking up in the back of his head.

_Hey kid, calm down._

Matthew zeroed in on the voice that had addressed him.

_Just ignore them. They'll go away eventually._

Ignore them? How could he possibly ignore them when they were the only things he could hear?

_Relax. Don't pay attention to them._

He focused on the one voice that continued to speak to him, but in a much less frantic manner. It said soothing things, guiding him through the horrendous experience. The other voices slowly died down, getting bored with Matthew's lack of response, but the comforting one continued to speak steady reassurances, acting as his lifeline.

It was strange how the voice speaking to him in such a calm way was so far from a beautiful one. It was a man's voice, gravelly and harsh, with a German accent. All of the voices stopped, and he was left alone with the one he had been listening so intently to.

_There… They're all gone. Are you alright? I hope they didn't scare you. That would be so unawesome._

Matthew didn't know how to respond. Should he nod? Was the voice watching him? Or should he think his answer, or say it aloud?

"I-I… What was that? Who were all those voices? Why can I-"

_Whoa, whoa kid, one question at a time-_

"-Are you real?"

A long silence spanned over a minute between the two. Matthew almost thought he had gone away along with the rest of them, when he spoke again.

… _Ja… I am real._

"A-and everyone else? They were real, too? I wasn't dreaming?"

_No, you weren't dreaming. That was all completely real._

Matthew shook his head. 'No way, no way, no way, no way…' he thought in frenzy. None of that could have been real. He was just dreaming again, that was it.

A terrifyingly lifelike dream.

"I-I don't believe you."

They lapsed into silence once again. Then, an amused chuckle came to the voice.

_You don't, do you? Well, I guess I'll just have to prove it to you…_

'P-prove it? What does he mean by-?'

Slowly, a warm wave pulsed through the bedroom. A flicker of movement caught Matthew's eye, and he could only stare in awe as… something… materialized before him. It was like the figures from his nightmare, but this one seemed to have more form, more solidity. Whatever it was, it was starting to take on a human shape. He could see a torso, then arms and legs, the head, and the features.

The figure stepped forward into the beam of moonlight coming from the window to display himself in all his luminescence and transparency, though he was growing more opaque by the second. He had a shock of messy white hair and incredibly fair skin, but that could have just been the light playing tricks. No, the most noticeable thing about him was the bright, intense pair of red eyes that seemed to look into Matthew's very soul.

The figure's lips were curled into a sort of lopsided smirk, as if to say 'I told you so!' Matthew tried to rationalize what he was seeing. It was one in the morning, he was tired. He wasn't even awake. This was just a vivid dream. Anything to make what he was seeing seem as normal as possible.

"Y-you- I- but- that's not- how-?"

"Dude, you were hearing voices, and you really think this is so unusual?" The – ghost? Zombie? Spirit? Demon? – thing… actually stepped to the ground and walked towards Matthew's bed, then sat down. He really felt the bed dip under the weight of the albino. "As _if_," he continued, "This is probably the most awesome thing that's ever happened to you!"

Somehow, 'awesome' wasn't the word that came to mind when Matthew thought about his current situation. He decided that 'exciting' or 'really-freaking-terrifying' fit better.

"So, kid, what's your name?"

"Wh-why should I tell you?" he squeaked.

The thing paused for a moment, then burst into some sort of weird laughter. "Kesesesese~! You squeaked like some sort of bird! That's rich, Birdie!"

"Be quiet! What do you think you're doing? My brother is just in the other room-"

"Yo, Mattie, who are you talking to…?" Matthew froze at the sleepy voice that came from his doorway and slowly turned to look at his brother who was currently rubbing his eyes and wore a confused look.

"Um…" He glanced at his brother, then to the albino, then to his brother again and back to the albino. "I… don't know what you're talking about, Alfred."

Alfred kept staring right past the ghost at Matthew, like he couldn't see him. "Are you sure, man?"

"Uh, yeah, I must've been talking in my sleep or something. Sorry if I woke you up."

Alfred looked a bit skeptical, but shrugged anyway. "Whatever… It's too early for this… night, Matthew."

"Night, Al."

And with that, Alfred went back to his room, shutting Matthew's bedroom door behind him. He stayed silent until he was sure he heard the soft snoring that meant his brother was asleep. The ghost started chuckling again.

"Kesesese… So your name's Matthew? Cute name, kid, but I like Birdie better." He extended a hand towards Matthew, who cringed back slightly. "My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt and I'm the awesomest person you'll ever meet!"

Matthew lifted his hand and wondered if he should shake Gilbert's hand when the albino reached forward and shook it anyway. Matthew was not only surprised that his hand didn't pass through, but also at the powerful jolt that wracked his body at the contact. He yanked his hand back from Gilbert's as if it had burned him.

"You... what _are_ you?" Matthew cried in a whisper.

Gilbert was suddenly very serious. "I... am a _Spiritum Viventem_, a living ghost. I died a while ago, but I didn't want to be turned into a formless spirit. I clung to my human body, but my existential spirit is gone. Nobody can see or hear me, but I can still physically influence my surroundings. The others that were speaking to you were also people like me who died but didn't give up their bodies. However..." Gilbert leaned in close to Matthew so only a foot separated their faces. "I have no idea how you can see and hear me. Not only me, but you heard everybody else, too. It takes a very special person to be able to do something like that, Birdie. I've never met anyone else like you."

Matthew's heart was pounding in his chest at a frightening speed, not only from the ghost's closeness, but also from the shock that all of a sudden he was special. He was no longer just the invisible kid at school. Now he was the invisible kid at school who could see _ghosts_. How much better was that?

…Not a lot, that's how much… What was he going to do? Walk into school and announce to the world that he was clinically insane and needed to be locked up for good? Once again, _nothankyou_.

"… What do you want with me? Are you going to haunt me for the rest of my life or something?"

Gilbert seemed to think for a minute, and then smirked again. "Nah, I won't haunt you. Unless, of course, you want me to."

Matthew snorted quietly. "Why on Earth would I _want_ you to haunt me? Isn't that sort of a bad thing?"

"Hey! It's not like I'm evil or anything. Evil ghosts are so unawesome. And while I think it's lots of fun to be alone, you seem pretty miserable. You can talk to me and shit. Call it a favor from the awesome me!"

"How did you know I was lonely?" Matthew asked incredulously.

"Hah, I didn't, but you just now told me." Gilbert said with a chuckle. "So which will it be? Wanna be forever alone, or are you gonna hang with the awesome me?"

And that was the choice Matthew was given. He thought about it for a long moment, questions tumbling in his head that he didn't want to bother the ghost with right now. On one hand, he would have to keep this a secret from everyone, even his closest friends. Then again, his closest friends were those who sometimes happened to remember his name, and not really 'friends' at all. This was the opportunity of a lifetime; he'd finally found someone who was willing to listen, a _friend_ if he could be so bold. The thought sent a nice feeling through his stomach and brought a smile and light blush to his face. He might never get this chance again.

"Okay, Gilbert," he finally whispered. "you can haunt me."

* * *

><p>AN: OKAY! So, this idea was bugging me, and it's probably never going to get finished, but whatever. I needed to write a PruCan so badly, and this thing I read on CreepyPasta seemed to really fit Mattie for some reason. (that's what the italicized paragraph at the beginning is from) I started writing one night at like, 11:00 PM and kept at it until 1:30 in the morning. I was listening to this song through the whole writing of this chapter - /watch?v=1xCXD6_pFdM (paste it to the end of the youtube address) I think the mood really fits, so if you wanna listen while reading, please do.

Sorry to those of you waiting for the next chapter of Vocaloid, it's just that nothing is flowing... I'm really trying, I swear, but don't expect anything for a while...

~Jel


	2. Let it Begin

"Hey... Birdie! Birdie, wake up!" Gilbert shook Matthew's sleeping form impatiently, but the blonde just groaned. True, he probably barely got any sleep last night considering he went to sleep at two in the morning, but this was important. "There's like, a foot of snow outside! Snow is awesome! _We need to go play in the fucking snow!_"

Matthew still didn't move, so the ghost opened the window and scooped up a handful of snow from the top of the hedge below it. Packing the frigid substance into a ball, he loomed over the sleeping teenager and was about to shove it under his covers when suddenly groggy, violet eyes opened up and looked up at him in confusion. Gilbert almost thought he had forgotten what had happened the night before, but this seemed more like a confusion that came from finding out somebody was staring at you in your sleep- oh, yeah.

"Hey, what are you... What time is it...?" Matthew fumbled around his bedside table and grabbed his glasses, then looked at the time, which was six-thirty. "What the heck, Gilbert? It's barely dawn, nobody's awake yet."

"But there is _so much_ snow on the ground! C'mon, I wanna play in the snow with you, and I can't do that when people will see random footprints and flying snowballs, duh."

"Ugh... Fine. But let me get dressed first..." Matthew's eyes rested on the snowball in Gilbert's hand. "What is that?"

The albino suddenly remembered what he was about to do to get the formerly sleeping teen to wake up, and quickly hid the snowball behind his back. "... Nothing..."

Matthew raised a slender eyebrow, but didn't question him. "Alright then... I'm getting dressed. If you could... um..." The blonde blushed, and Gilbert immediately got the message.

"Oh! Yeah, I'll just be waiting outside the door here." He chuckled and stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind him and sinking down to the carpeted floor. He listened through the door and heard the rustle of sheets as he imagined Birdie getting out of bed and slinking to his dresser drawers. He heard the wood squeak as the drawers were opened, then a pause. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his ear to the door, and heard fabric shuffling and falling to the floor. He blushed when he figured out Matthew must me stripping, and scooted away from the door, trying to get dirty thoughts out of his head before they even got there. _Nein_, Birdie was too cute to be thinking of like that. Sure, in life Gilbert had been a huge flirt along with his two best friends, but it was different somehow now that he was dead. Or maybe it was just something about Matthew himself. Either way, it felt weird, like something fluttering around in his stomach.

He shrugged it off as nothing, though, and when Matthew came back out of his room, fully decked out in heavy winter clothes to keep warm, Gilbert grinned and stood up, grabbing onto his gloved hand and dragging him through the house and out the front door.

It was still dark. The only light came from the street lamps that ran along the road and a faint glow over the horizon that promised morning. Pure, pristine, untouched snow glistened in that little light in a way that was almost surreal. Gilbert gazed upon it in wonder for a few seconds, and then frolicked into the deep snow, whooping and kicking it around, marring the perfect drifts. After making sure that the scenery was thoroughly ruined, he fell back into the puffy blanket of snow unharmed. He glanced back at Birdie, who was still standing on the porch, and waved him over. The blonde rolled his eyes and calmly walked across the yard to where Gilbert lay.

"Was all of that really necessary?" he asked, sitting beside the ghost who shook his head in response.

"Nah, but it was so fun! Come on, snow angels!" Gilbert splayed out his arms and legs and started frantically moving them up and down to leave an imprint in the snow. Once satisfied with the shape, he stood and signed his name with his finger in the head. Matthew still hadn't moved from his sitting position, not even to lie down. Gilbert frowned and knelt down in front of him. "Hey, Birdie, you alright?"

He looked like he was in a daze, just staring into space with half-lidded eyes. The ghost waved a hand in front of his face, but Matthew's attention remained elsewhere. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, Gilbert balled up some snow and smacked him upside the head with it.

"Huh?" He turned his attention to a confused (and totally not worried) Gilbert, and shook his head. "Oh... Sorry, I must have zoned out or something..." A smile split his face and he turned more cheerful. "We were doing snow angels, right?" he chirped, and threw himself back to the snow, imitating what Gilbert had done. The ghost hesitated a moment before laughing and moving a few paces over to make another snow angel. This went on for an hour until Matthew complained it was getting cold, so they went inside.

"Kesesese! That was fun, Birdie! What 'cha gonna do now?" Gilbert asked as Matthew shed his wet outer wear in the tiled kitchen and hung them on the back of a chair.

"Well, after all that, I'm hungry. So I'm making pancakes. Do you want… er, _can_ you eat?" he questioned as he started getting out ingredients for the fluffy breakfast food.

"Heh, kid, I can do everything you can do. I'm just invisible," the ghost replied with a smirk. "Bring on the pancakes!"

So Matthew started cooking and Gilbert sat at the kitchen table to watch. The blonde hummed to himself while he mixed and poured and flipped pancakes. Gilbert's mouth was beginning to water. It had been a long time since he'd eaten anything, and these pancakes smelled like something crafted by the embodiment of awesome. He was practically bouncing with excitement when Birdie stacked four of the steaming hot cakes on a plate and set it in front of him with a bottle of brown liquid. Ignoring the bottle, Gilbert grabbed a fork and was about to dig in when Birdie slapped it away. It clattered to the floor.

Gilbert frowned. "What gives? I'm eating here!"

"Aren't you going to put maple syrup on them?"

"Maple-who? Is that what that brown stuff is?" Birdie's eyes went wide as dinner plates.

"You've never had maple syrup?" he asked, disbelieving, and Gilbert shook his head. "Have you been living under a rock or something? You have to try some!" Birdie took up the bottle and poured the contents on top of the ghost's pancakes. "It's like happiness in a bottle. You can't help but love it. I put it with everything that has to do with breakfast. Pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs, sausage, hot chocolate..." The blonde kept rambling about all the things he put this maple syrup on while Gilbert eyed his now maple-covered pancakes.

"... and that's why you should try it! It's really good, I promise!" Birdie concluded. Gilbert continued to stare at the slow-moving stuff dripping and soaking into his food. Finally he decided that he would have to try the syrup by itself before he ate it together with the pancakes, so he dipped his finger in the pool and tentatively licked it.

The flavor hit his tongue in a sweet explosion. The taste was impossible to explain. He'd never tasted anything like it before, and frankly, he was amazed.

"Holy shit… This stuff is awesome!" he yelled, sucking his finger to get the rest of the syrup off. "Hand me another fork, I gotta see how it tastes on the pancakes!" Birdie retrieved a fork from a drawer and set it next to the plate of pancakes when Alfred walked in the doorway.

"Morning, Mattie! Man, I can smell those pancakes even with my door closed." Gilbert and Matthew looked up at the intruder, the former with distaste. He couldn't eat his pancakes with awesome maple syrup if this guy was here... He got up and sat at the other side of the table.

"Good morning, Al." Matthew greeted, quiet in comparison to his brother. Alfred immediately sat down in the seat Gilbert had been in and began to eat the pancakes without even asking if they were meant for him, earning a loud groan and complaint from the ghost.

"Come ON! I just want some fucking pancakes!" he shouted, but Alfred remained oblivious. "I should've spat in it or something…" he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Matthew giggled, but covered it up with a cough. The blonde got up to get himself some pancakes, and while he was still turned around, Gilbert leaned over the table and got up in Alfred's face.

"Do you realize what you are doing to me? This is TORTURE! Those are _my_ fucking pancakes! Not yours. MINE. Birdie made those for me, not you. Gott, you are SO FUCKING STUPID." The ghost kept ranting at Alfred, even though he couldn't see or hear him. Matthew was fighting back a smile the whole time his brother was eating.

"Great pancakes, bro." Alfred said when he finished. Only Matthew heard the "Yeah, I know. They were supposed to me _mine_, you moron..." that Gilbert muttered. "Anyway, the hero's gotta fly. Hanging out with Arthur today. Don't cause any trouble, 'kay?" Alfred continued.

"As if." Matthew retorted, rolling his eyes. His brother ignored him and shrugged on a coat that had been hanging from the rack.

"I'll be back by dark." he called, and opened the door, but then stopped in his tracks. "Dude, Mattie, what happened to all the snow? It's been trampled on..."

"Um, I went outside this morning already."

Alfred kept standing in the doorway. "... and you made snow angels?"

"Uh... Yes?"

"... Whatever, man. Okay, bye."

"Bye, Al."

And with that, Alfred went out and slammed the door behind him. Gilbert got up and stacked some more pancakes on a plate, covering them with syrup just like the last ones.

"_Finally_. Gott, your brother's an idiot, you know that, Birdie?"

"Yes, I know, Gilbert. Eat your pancakes."

The ghost huffed indignantly, but did as he was told, scooping up a forkful of the fluffy treat into his mouth.

"Mmm… Damn, Birdie, you're an awesome cook!" he exclaimed, taking another, larger bite. "Who knew my first meal in forever would be this awesome! You're gonna cook for me more, right?"

Matthew blushed and looked down. "Ah... Sure, if you want me to..."

Gilbert scarfed down the rest of the pancakes and took it upon himself to put his dish in the sink.

"So… now what do we do?" the ghost asked expectantly. Matthew looked at the clock on the microwave.

"Well, it's only eight. We have the whole day ahead of us. What do you wanna do?"

Gilbert pondered for a moment, then came upon a decision.

"I want you to tell me about yourself. That should take up a lot of time, right?"

"About me...?" Matthew mumbled. "Well... there's not much to say other than I don't have many friends... and people don't really notice me a lot, but you already knew that. What else do you want to know?"

"Everything! There's no way that's all there is to you, Birdie. There's a lot to everybody, even if they don't know it themselves." Gilbert lapsed into one of his rare serious moments that seemed to be getting more frequent in the time spent with Matthew. "When you exist like I have, you know, invisibly, you can study people's lives without interference. I can figure out things about people that I wouldn't know if I didn't hang out with them twenty-four seven." The ghost smirked. "So, I guess you could say that if you don't wanna tell me now, I'll find out eventually."

"But I really don't have much to tell you about!" Matthew excused. "Where do I start?"

Gilbert hummed, presumably thinking, and wandered to "their" bedroom with the blonde in tow. He went in and flopped onto the bed. Matthew sat on the floor, looking up at the albino lying on his bed. Suddenly, Gilbert snapped his fingers and turned to the blond.

"I got it! I'll just ask you questions about your obviously awesome life, and you answer, see? Simple, and you don't have to come up with any bullshit autobiography stuff off the top of your head." Gilbert smiled smugly to himself as if it was the best idea in the world. Matthew rocked back and forth, and Gilbert waited impatiently for his answer.

"Okay, sure. If you're gonna find out eventually… might as well get it out of the way now, eh?"

The ghost chuckled in that strange way of his. "Kesesese, you got that right, Birdie." He sat up and gave the blonde his full attention. "Alright! Let the interrogation begin!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright, chapter two! Wasn't expecting that, were you? Well, you might have. Last chappie was kind of a cliffhanger. IT DEMANDED ANOTHER CHAPTER. AND ANOTHER AND ANOTHER!**

**Anyway, I actually did another chapter for this, which is a shock. Don't expect it to be finished any time soon, or fast updates or anything like that. I don't... finish things much... unless it's a oneshot of course. I've got school and stuff to be distracted by. You know, Geometry and Russian and all that crap.**

**Wrapping up, Vocaloid is at a standstill. Maybe this summer I'll update (or even spring break) when I have more time to write, but until then, it doesn't look like it's going anywhere. Maybe I'll at least publish what I have so far into the next chapter...**

**OK, that's pretty much it. Sorry, long Authoress Note is long.**

**~Jel**


	3. Spring

"All right, first question... When's your birthday?"

"July first."

"Favorite color?"

"Red."

"Any siblings besides the moron?"

"Nope."

"Best friend?"

"Not really..."

Gilbert paused his drill of questions in frustration. "Dammit Birdie, you should have tons of friends!"

Matthew cringed. "I'm sorry... It's just that I'm really quiet, so people don't notice me. It's my fault-"

"No it's not! It's everybody else! If they weren't so loud then they could hear you, but they're too caught up with their own stupid lives to see how awesome you are. People are just retarded..." The ghost glared daggers at the ceiling and breathed deeply to calm down. Damn... he needed to stop getting worked up over Birdie.

"… Um… Gilbert? Questions?"

"Oh... yeah..."

The interrogation went on, and the ghost learned a lot about Matthew's life. Like how he got excellent marks in school, how he loved hockey and wanted to play but was too shy to try out, and how sometimes his father wouldn't notice him for weeks at a time because sometimes he forgot his own child existed. It was enough to make Gilbert want to cry, but he was too awesome to do that. Being shy was one thing, but being ignored by almost everyone? That was a new level of depressing. And the worst part was that he acknowledged everything as if it was normal, even going so far as to blame himself for being invisible. It was infuriating, and Gilbert wouldn't stand for it.

Gilbert swore to himself that he would get Matthew noticed no matter what it took. He was way too nice to go without a single friend. Then again, how could he get the kid a friend when the ghost was invisible? That would prove a problem-

"Hey, Gil?" Birdie asked nervously. "I-I mean, if it's okay for me to call you that..."

The albino waved off his worry. "Don't sweat, kid. Call me whatever you want. Now, what is it?"

Matthew fidgeted anxiously. "Well... I was just wondering..." he started quietly. "Are... are we... friends?" he finished, almost inaudible now.

Gilbert went rigid and glanced at the guy whose gaze was focused on the floor, face burning red. What was he talking about? Of course they were friends! Wasn't the whole point of this "haunting" thing to give the kid someone to talk to?

"Birdie... of course we are..." Gilbert responded, surprised that his voice came out a lot softer than he'd intended. As if to shock himself further, he continued with "If you want to… we can be best friends, I guess."

Matthew's head jolted up as he stared wide-eyed at the albino.

"You… you mean it?"

"Yeah."

Gilbert said it so nonchalantly, and he was sure that Birdie wouldn't make a big deal out of this, so he was thoroughly shocked when the blonde's eyes welled up with tears and spilled down his cheeks.

"H-holy shit, dude, are you okay? L-look, forget I said anything-"

"No!" Matthew yelled. A giddy smile was spreading across his face, and he let out a shaky laugh. "No, I'm just… really happy. Th-thanks for saying that, Gilbert."

Needless to say, the ghost was confused beyond reason, but he didn't question the young man on his sudden happy outburst, opting instead to check the time.

"Holy crap, Birdie! It's already four! When did your brother say he was coming home?"

"He, uh, didn't say…" Matthew fidgeted some more. "He'll probably be home before dark, though."

Gilbert hummed to himself absently, letting the blond know he'd heard him. The two sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. Moments like this were nonexistent for Gilbert since his death, and he realized just how lonesome he really was.

This was... nice.

"Hey, Birdie." The ghost broke the peaceful silence.

"Yeah, Gil?"

"... Thanks."

~Some months later...~

It was spring now. The weather was mild, the trees were in bloom, and everything felt fresh and warm after the cold winter. This particular spring day found Matthew all but skipping home from school, an ecstatic smile plastered on his face. Something big had happened at school, and he couldn't wait to get home to tell Gilbert.

He ran up to his house excitedly, yanking open the door and yelling, "Gil! I'm home!" into the kitchen. The ghost popped his head around the doorway leading to the hall with a fond smirk.

"Hey, Birdie. Good day at school?"

Matthew gave an enthusiastic nod and met the Gilbert at the threshold. "Yeah! You won't believe what happened!" he babbled on his way to his room. The two entered the room, and the blond dropped his bag on the floor.

"Well, what is it?" the ghost chuckled, "You don't normally have awesome days like this. The suspense is killing me." he joked.

"Today, I finally made..." Matthew paused for dramatic effect, "... a friend at school! Isn't that great?"

A grin split Gilbert's face. "Fuck yeah, Birdie! That's awesome! What's the guy's name?"

"Uh, not a guy, a girl. Her name's Katy. She's really nice, and kind of shy like me. Oh, she's a foreign exchange student from Ukraine, isn't that cool? We talked a lot during lunch today and it turns out we have a lot of the same classes, and... Gil? You okay?" Matthew noticed that during his gushing, the ghost's grin slowly faded, and now he looked deep in thought.

"Oh... yeah! I'm awesome! Don't worry!" Gilbert quickly put on a forced smile, but Matthew wasn't buying it.

"Gil, seriously, what's wrong?" The fake smile fell, and he looked down. Suddenly, it clicked. "Gil, are you afraid she's gonna be my best friend?" Matthew lifted his hand to rest it on the ghost's shoulder. "You know I would never do that, I'm not replacing you with her-"

"That's not it, don't you get it?" Gilbert suddenly snatched out and grabbed the blond's wrist from his shoulder. Matthew's eyes widened.

"G-Gilbert?" he stuttered, "Wh-what are you talking about?"

"I… It's just…" The ghost sighed and looked down, but he kept his hold on Matthew's hand. "Just… forget it, okay? It doesn't matter anyway…" Matthew thought he noticed a blush make its way to the albino's face. "Don't make me keep you from having a girlfriend…"

For a moment, Matthew was in shock. A girlfriend? Gilbert thought that he saw Katy as a _girlfriend_? Sure, she was nice, and cute, but… he just couldn't think of her that way.

"Gilbert, it's not like that, I swear. There's a better chance of me dating _you_ than going out with her." Matthew chuckled nervously as Gilbert's face continued to deepen in color. "Gil, please, what is it? What can I do?"

The ghost didn't respond, and pulled the blond a step closer so they were only a few inches apart. Matthew's heart pounded against his ribcage in excitement. Excitement for what, he didn't know, but Gilbert was just so _close,_ and his breath came faster, and he was probably blushing red as a tomato, and-

"Birdie, I want… to try something…"

Matthew didn't have time to protest when suddenly the short distance between the two was closed, and he felt the warmth of the ghost's lips gently press against his. His eyes widened in surprise, and he was completely frozen, unsure of what to do. How did one react to being kissed by your male best friend of several months who also happened to be a ghost? Should he pull away? Get angry? Do nothing?

… Kiss him back…?

Somehow… his heart jumped at the thought of the last option. He didn't know if it was wrong. Didn't this count as necrophilia? But if this was wrong, then why did every part of his mind scream that it was so _right_ and wonderful?

He realized then that Gilbert was still waiting for his reaction, and so he abandoned all of his thoughts and followed his gut.

Matthew leaned in and tentatively pressed back, letting his eyes slip closed. Gilbert's lips upturned slightly against his own at the positive reaction, and he let go of the blond's wrist, placing his hands on the other's hips and pulling the two of them even closer together. Matthew sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around the ghost's waist in a sudden spark of boldness.

Every touch was like fire against his skin. Butterflies flitted around wildly in his stomach, and his head swam with the emotion that he'd been keeping a secret from himself and Gilbert for too long. He felt like he would melt at any second. This... this was bliss...

Good things must come to an end, however, and after what felt like an eternity, Gilbert finally pulled away. He drew a shaky breath and opened his eyes, violet meeting crimson. The ghost opened his mouth to say something, but Matthew beat him to it.

"I love you!" he squeaked. "I-I've loved you for a while now... I think... I just didn't realize it..." How could he not fall helplessly in love with the first person who ever gave a damn about him? Sure, he could be annoying and arrogant and loud sometimes… well, most of the time. But he was encouraging and thoughtful a lot, too. Most of all he was confident, something Matthew knew he would never be, and he looked up to Gilbert for it.

The ghost wrapped Matthew in a strong bear hug, lifting him a few inches into the air. "Yes! And you really mean it?"

The blond yelped in surprise and giggled at being picked up. "G-Gilbert! Yeah, I mean it! Now put me down!" Gilbert obliged, and smiled the hugest smile Matthew had ever seen. "Why would you think I would lie to you about something like that?" he asked, honestly curious. The albino shrugged.

"Unawesome person from when I was alive decided it would be fun to mess with me." He scowled. "Stupid bitch went and cheated on me with a friend of mine." Matthew almost thought about being jealous that Gilbert had had a girlfriend in the past, but the way he seemed to hate her guts now changed his mind.

"I'm sorry?" Matthew tried. Gilbert chuckled.

"Don't be, Birdie. That was a long time ago, I'm completely over it." The ghost smiled again, and Matthew knew he must be telling the truth.

…

"Well, mostly…"

"GIL!"

"Kidding! Kidding… Ow, don't hit me…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Short chapter is short, I'm so sorry... BUT, their relationship kicks off in this chapter! That makes up for it, right? Next chappie will be longer, I promise.<strong>

**Ugh, also, that kiss took forever to write. I don't have much expertise in that area, so any advice is greatly appreciated!**

**I gotta give a shout-out to all of my lovely fave-ers and subscribers! I wasn't expecting this much of a response... this story only has about a third of the words that Vocaloid does, and yet there are more alerts! Why is that...?**

**Anyway, please stay tuned for the next chapter!**

**~Jel**


	4. Secrets Revealed

"Artie, it's this way!"

"I know where it is, for heaven's sake. And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Alfred slowed his jog down to a walk so he was in stride next to Arthur once more. "Just because I haven't been over to your house in a while doesn't mean I've forgotten where it is…" he muttered.

"Gee, somebody's in a bad mood. PMS, much?" the taller blonde joked with a loud laugh.

"Why, you…!" Arthur growled. Alfred took off in a sprint down the sidewalk, laughing obnoxiously the whole way. "Get back here, you insufferable git!" Arthur chased him until they arrived at the house's front porch, always a few strides behind. Alfred wasn't captain of the bloody football team because he was slow, that was for sure.

"Mattie's probably home already. You remember him, right?" Arthur, doubled over panting from the sprint, nodded to be polite, but in all honesty, it had slipped his mind that Alfred had a brother.

"Of course I remember him. What kind of person do you take me for?" Alfred shrugged.

"Just checking. Not many people seem to remember him. But he seems… I dunno, happier, I guess since a few months ago?" he said as he dug for his keys. "Whatever happened to him, he's less mopey, so that's cool." He finally found the keys and unlocked and opened the door in one swift movement. "Mattie! I'm home! And I brought Artie with me!" Arthur didn't bother to correct Alfred as he followed him through the kitchen and made a left into the living room. There, he found a young man who bore striking resemblance to his brother lounging in an armchair doing what he assumed to be homework. All in all, he seemed very average, and it was no wonder he'd forgotten him before.

The boy looked up from his work upon their entrance. "Oh. Hey guys. Haven't seen you in a while, Arthur. How're things going?"

"Fine." was Arthur's curt response. Matthew nodded and went back to his homework.

Alfred and Arthur sat down on the couch. Well, Arthur sat. Alfred kind of flopped and started rambling about his day to Matthew, who only seemed to be half listening. Arthur couldn't imagine how he put up with _living_ with the guy, what with his habit of going off on tangents about who-knows-what without really paying attention to anything besides himself talking. It was okay, though, because Alfred didn't mind if you were paying attention to something else while he was talking, so long as you didn't interrupt him.

Arthur took this chance to do his homework as well. He didn't know if Alfred was expecting him to stay for dinner or not, so he might as well get it done while he could. He got out his textbook and other supplies he would need for an English project and started on the essay portion. He couldn't really do the visual presentation here; all of the supplies for that were back at his house, but he could do that later anyway-

"Hey, Birdie, who's the guy with the massive eyebrows?"

Arthur jumped slightly at the new voice and accidentally made a stray mark on his paper, which he hurried to rub out before looking up to see who had spoken. Standing next to Matthew was a man with snowy white hair and... red eyes? It sure looked like it. Matthew scribbled something down and discreetly slid it so the man could see.

"Oh. So are they dating or something, or just friends?" Once again, Matthew wrote a note to show the man, this time with a quiet snicker. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the exchange. Why didn't Matthew speak out loud? More importantly, why didn't Alfred seem to hear the man? It wasn't as if he was quiet. In fact, he was quite loud. How odd…

"Birdie, eyebrow dude is staring at us." Matthew glanced up at Arthur for a moment, flickered his gaze over to the man, and then back at Arthur. Another note.

"No, I mean… I think he can _see_ me. He's acting the same way you did, he's paying attention." They both stared at Arthur with quizzical expressions, and Arthur just didn't understand. Why was it such a big deal that he could see this guy? Why wouldn't he be able to-?

Oh. OH…

Gilbert was a ghost wasn't he? That would explain why Alfred couldn't see or hear him. That guy was never one for the supernatural or paranormal. Arthur, however, could see ghosts and other things ever since he could remember. Sometimes they took on wispy shapes. Sometimes odd colors or varying levels of translucency, even combinations of the three. Arthur had to admit, though, it was rare to see a ghost look so… well… _alive_. He was completely solid, with no wisps or even weird colors besides the hair and eyes, and even those could have been from when he was alive. And here he thought he was the only one who could see ghosts.

The ghost didn't seem to like the idea that Arthur could see him, too. "I should leave…" he said, half turning away. Matthew kicked him lightly in the shin to get him to stay, shooting him a look.

"Um… Al?"

Alfred's relentless babble stopped for a millisecond (Had he really been talking this entire time without noticing a thing?) "Yeah?"

"Uh… do you think I could talk to Arthur in private… just for a little bit?"

Alfred seemed taken off-guard by Matthew's unusual request. "Um, yeah, sure…" He didn't question why, though, and for that, Matthew looked thankful.

"Thanks. Arthur, could you come here for a minute?" he said as he got up and left the room, the ghost going with him. Arthur knew exactly what Matthew wanted to talk about, but he shrugged and gave Alfred a confused look for his sake before following the other brother into the hall and eventually into his bedroom, flipping on the light switch. Matthew closed and locked the door behind the three of them so there was no chance of his brother coming in. He then turned to face Arthur.

"You can see Gilbert." Matthew wasted no time in getting to his point. Arthur nodded.

"Yes, I can see him. I've been able to see ghosts since I was small." he responded. "And you? When did you meet... ah, Gilbert?"

"A few months ago, right after Christmas."

"Oh, that day it was snowing?"

"Yeah."

Arthur didn't speak for a moment, just thinking. Matthew shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. Somehow, that time-frame seemed significant...

"_But he seems… I dunno, happier, I guess since a few months ago? Whatever happened to him, he's less mopey, so that's cool."_

Suddenly, he remembered what Alfred said about Matthew being happier. Was this ghost somehow responsible?

"Gilbert." The albino looked at Arthur to let him know he was listening. "What exactly is your relationship with Matthew?" Gilbert scowled.

"And whose business is that, huh? Not yours!" he snapped indignantly. A noticeable blush began to creep onto his face, but Arthur didn't comment on it.

"Gil, don't be like that… Just tell him the truth, we can trust him. Who's he gonna tell?" Matthew tried to calm down the ghost.

"Matthew's right. I don't know anybody else who would believe me about such a thing. I'm merely curious."

Gilbert crossed his arms, scowl deepening. "… Fine." He took a deep breath. "We're… friends…" he admitted. Arthur looked to Matthew for confirmation, who sighed, looking a bit hurt.

"Gilbert, I'm not sure if that's the truth. Matthew doesn't seem to think so." Arthur's comment was proven correct when the ghost took a step closer to Matthew, almost in a protective manner. "You two are more than friends."

It wasn't a question. Arthur didn't say anything else and stared at Gilbert, waiting for him to speak. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his shoulders slumped, scowl falling from his face. The blush had found a way back to his cheeks, and Arthur knew what he would say next. But suddenly… he didn't know if he _wanted_ to hear it.

"Okay, you're right… What Birdie is to me…"

How could someone so ordinary and shy become friends with someone so… so odd? That didn't even begin to describe the ghost.

"We're really…"

Not only did their personalities seem to clash drastically, but there was also the small detail that GILBERT WAS A GHOST. It was difficult to fathom them having _that_ kind of a relationship. Of course, he'd seen ghosts in love with other ghosts. People who had literally died for each other, be it because of not being accepted, or perhaps their betrothed died early and the one left alive couldn't take it anymore and thought they would meet in another world. So many sad stories of love that could only be realized in death…

Arthur could only hope that that didn't happen to these two…

"… Lovers."

That word was finally out there, hanging in the air between the three young men. Such an intimate word… _lovers_… He didn't say boyfriends. This wasn't your average high school relationship. It was serious, with real emotion. As unfitting as the two seemed to be for each other, Arthur couldn't help but see the way they looked at each other after Gilbert said it. There was something there, something deep, something that could only be proven if it had to be stretched across a fine line somewhere. That fine line lies between life and death, and anything that crosses that line is something strong and immortal. It was something to be admired, not labeled as taboo, which was what Arthur assumed Matthew and Gilbert were expecting.

"Dammit, eyebrows, say something!" Gilbert yelled, impatient with Arthur's lack of response so far. "If you think it's disgusting, or wrong, or whatever, you can go fuck yourself, okay? You think I didn't get enough faggot comments when I was alive? I don't give a shit what you have to say, I love Matthew!"

The aforementioned blond seemed shocked at the ghost's sudden confession. Arthur held up his hands in defense and looked between the two. "I never said that! I was just... surprised, that's all. I'm not here to judge, just to understand. I've never seen a romantic relationship between a mortal and a ghost before. It's interesting, that's all."

Gilbert slowly simmered down from his outburst and crossed his arms. "... Okay."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the three, nobody quite sure of what to say.

"Um..." Matthew mumbled. "This is... well..."

"Awkward?" Gilbert supplied.

"Yeah."

"I think Alfred is still waiting for us to come back, Matthew." Arthur mentioned, making his way towards the door. He didn't wait for the two to follow him and unlocked the door to leave. Right as he was about to walk out, Matthew said something.

"Ah, Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"… Thank you for understanding."

Arthur smiled warmly at the timid boy. "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>Soon everyone was back in the living room, where, as Arthur had predicted, Alfred was waiting impatiently.<p>

"Finally, dudes! What took you two so long? What'd you talk about? Were you talking about me? I bet you were. I'm a hero after all, why wouldn't you be talking about me? Anyway, as I was saying before…"

Alfred picked back up on his babbling, Arthur and Matthew opting to ignore him once again. Out of the corner of his eye, just as he was about to get back to his homework, Arthur watched as Gilbert sat beside Matthew and gently entwined their hands with motions small enough not to draw Alfred's attention. The blond's lips twitched up slightly in a soft smile.

They held hands like that, simply enjoying each other's touch, until Arthur had to go home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I promised you a longer chapter, and look at what I gave you... *goes to emo corner* I updated faster this time, though. Does that count for anything?**

**Thank you, all who reviewed and faved last chapter :) I loves you all~ *mwah***

**Next chapter gets a bit sad, so if you don't like that, stop reading. I wish you would continue, though, because there WILL be a fluffy, sappy, happy ending ^-^**

**Thank you for reading, and don't forget to review :)**

**~Jel**


	5. Leaking

"Gil, I'm going to school!" Birdie called from the kitchen door, backpack swung over one shoulder. "I'll see you when I get home." The ghost bounded up to him and stooped in to steal a kiss.

"All right, Birdie. Have a good day!" Gilbert said when he stepped back. Birdie blushed, but was smiling nonetheless.

This was a fairly typical day. Gilbert gave Birdie a goodbye kiss when he left for school, and when he got back, he would talk about how his day had gone. How Katy was doing, how his teachers were treating him, and what kind of grades he was getting. Then Birdie would do his homework like the good student he was, and that annoying brother of his would come back from sports practice, bringing their alone time to an end.

Today would be no different, and Gilbert was looking forward to that.

Birdie turned and took a step over the threshold, then stopped. Gilbert half expected him to turn around and mention that he forgot something, then run to get it, but he didn't. He just stood there, motionless. Curious, the ghost maneuvered himself around the blond to see what he was looking at. He didn't seem to be looking at anything, though. He was just staring out with this blank look on his face that was vaguely familiar... Gilbert waved a hand in front of the blond's face to get his attention, but he remained inattentive. Suddenly, a memory hit Gilbert. It was from a while ago, when he'd first met Birdie. That vacant look back there, in the snow. It was worrying. Hell, it was _scary._

"Birdie, wake up! Time for school!" He didn't say anything. He didn't even respond. Gilbert grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Matthew, that's not funny! Look at me!" Still nothing. Panicked, the ghost dug through Birdie's bag to find his cell phone and scrambled to press the right buttons to get to the contacts. He found the name he was looking for and immediately dialed it, putting the phone up to his ear.

One ring. Two. Three. Dammit, why wasn't he picking up-?

"Matthew, what are you doing calling me now, it's almost time for class-"

"Arthur, this is Gilbert. I think something's wrong with Birdie."

* * *

><p>Arthur arrived in a matter of ten minutes. Gilbert didn't know how he got out of school so quickly, but he didn't care at the moment. He was probably the only one who could help them right now.<p>

"Where is he?" the blond asked as he sped up the front steps.

"I took him to his room. He's on the bed." The ghost led Arthur through the house to Birdie's bedroom. "He hasn't moved. This isn't a medical problem, I know that. This wouldn't just... happen, would it?"

Arthur approached the bed and gave Birdie a once-over. He checked his pulse and temperature, and then felt around his head, his chest, and his hands.

"All right, calm down. I'm sure there's an explanation for this." He looked into those blank, violet eyes, searching for something. "There's something... missing, I know it…" Suddenly, he let out a little gasp. "Oh! That's it!"

"What's it?" Gilbert jumped to Birdie's side. "Do you know what's wrong?" Arthur nodded, but then looked solemn.

"Yes, but… I'm afraid this isn't good. Not at all."

Gilbert felt himself freeze. What did he mean, it wasn't good?

"It's been said," he continued, "that eyes are the windows to the soul. Normally those windows are closed, but…" he motioned for Gilbert to look. "Look. The color." Gilbert looked, expecting to see the same violet eyes he always did, but was met instead with a slightly more faded color. It was as if the life was slowly draining from them. But that wasn't an issue, right? Just because the color of his eyes was different didn't mean anything terrible, right?

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Arthur didn't answer him. "Arthur?" Gilbert grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Tell me what the hell this means!"

"All right, all right! Let go of me!" The ghost refused to let go and kept trying to shake the answer out of him. "It means that his soul is leaving him, okay!"

Gilbert abruptly stopped shaking the blond and didn't speak for all of five seconds out of shock.

"... What?"

Arthur tried to wriggle free, but the ghost's grip remained strong, so he gave up. "I was afraid this would happen..." Gilbert glared at him, prompting him to continue. "Ah, when a mortal is exposed to a single immortal for a long period of time, that is, he's able to see and hear him and remains in close contact, he slowly... uh... loses his soul, whether he knows it or not. I mentioned before, the eyes are the windows to the soul, and one can view its current state through the color. As you can see, the color in Matthew's eyes is... draining."

Gilbert released Arthur, arms dropping limp to his sides, and was silent for a long moment.

"So..." he finally said, "You're saying that Birdie is dying because of me?" His voice was kept under control, but you could tell the words were painful for him to say.

"Yes."

"Isn't there anything I can do?" Gilbert was frantically grasping at straws. "If I went away for a long time, would his soul go back to his body? I would leave forever! Tell him I did it for him or something, he just needs to live-!"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, Gilbert. The soul can't just re-enter the body. Leaving now would just stop his soul's progress so far and leave him in this state. He would be alive, yes... but he wouldn't be able to live." Arthur explained in a regretful tone. Gilbert didn't know what to say. It hurt too much. "Staying nearby is the best thing you can do for him. At least that way his whole soul can leave and he won't be like this forever. You want him to have a proper death, don't you? It's what he would have wanted."

"How can you know?" the ghost exclaimed. "How can you be so sure that's what he wanted? You never took the time to get to know him! You never really cared! You're just like every other fucker out there who doesn't give a damn about him, you probably didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago!"

"Gilbert please calm down, everything will be fine-"

"Don't tell me it's gonna be fine! How can you say that when Birdie's lying there... he's lying there..." Dying, but Gilbert couldn't bring himself to say it. A heavy weight of dread and hopelessness had settled over his shoulders, and a hard lump formed in his throat. "Don't tell me he's fine... when I know he's never waking up..."

He sat down on the bed with a lowered head, hands rising up to cover his face. And for the first time in a very, very long time, he cried. He cried for the inevitable loss of his love, he cried for the crushing guilt that weighed on his heart, and he cried even harder knowing that Arthur was watching him. The blond quietly apologized, and left, presumably to go back to school. Gilbert didn't care.

"G-Goddammit... Why?" he whispered to Birdie through choked sobs. "Why is everything always my fault? Birdie, I never told you how I died." He was talking to himself, mostly, and it was probably crazy, but he didn't mind. Nobody was listening. "I killed three others when I died, did you know? I was driving my friends and my little brother home from school one day. I was so stupid, and I ran a red light. That semi didn't even slow down. Nobody would have survived. That was a little over five years ago. Now we're all dead, and it's all my fault. And now I've gone and screwed up your life, too." The ghost wasn't sobbing any more, but hot tears still ran down his cheeks. "I'm such a terrible person."

Gilbert swept some hair off of Matthew's forehead, giving it a gentle kiss. He stoked the staring boy's cheek with his thumb, and watched as his soul gradually leaked away.

"I love you, Birdie. Remember that."

Matthew didn't answer him.

* * *

><p>Six hours later, Alfred returned from school.<p>

Two hours after that, Matthew was lying in a hospital bed.

Five minutes after that, Gilbert found out that his brother wasn't dead. He had somehow survived the car wreck, and was working as a nurse in the hospital. Gilbert saw him every day, but his brother never noticed.

A day after that, Matthew's father remembered he had another son, and learned that he was dying.

Three weeks after that, his father still hadn't visited him in the hospital.

A week after that, Alfred had stopped visiting his brother.

Two days after that, Matthew's eyes, which used to be a vibrant purple, were now pools of dull gray. The beeps from the doctors had hooked up to him, which monitored his vitals, were becoming slower with each passing minute. The jagged ups and downs from the line on the heart monitor got smaller and smaller, until finally it ran flat across the screen. A long, resounding beep came from the machine and filled the otherwise heavily silent room. Gilbert held onto Matthew's hand the whole time.

The time was 1:12 in the morning. Nobody had been around to see him die, but as soon as the monitor went off, Gilbert's brother, Ludwig, ran into the room to try and restart his heart. It didn't work, of course, but the ghost still appreciated the effort. Ludwig wasn't the type to throw away a life just like that. Gilbert didn't know why the hell he was at the hospital at one in the morning anyway, but he was somewhat glad he was.

For a moment, Ludwig didn't do anything but stare at the lifeless boy with pity in his hard blue eyes. Then, he spoke:

"I'm sorry that you died in this place alone. Nobody deserves such a thing."

Gilbert's hold on Matthew's hand tightened for a moment, but then he let go. He picked up a notepad and a pencil from the bedside table, and wrote a message. The movement of the objects didn't go unnoticed by Ludwig, who gaped in shock and curiosity. When the ghost was finished writing, he handed the note to the nurse. His face changed from a look of confusion to one mixed with sadness and understanding, and... well, more confusion.

"But… That's not possible…" he said in awe. Gilbert stood over Matthew and closed his unseeing eyes for him, then kissed his lips, which were slowly turning cold, one last time before whispering a final goodbye.

"I love you, Birdie."

He left the two in the room, wandered out of the hospital, and began his trek back to Matthew's house.

The note had said:

_He didn't die alone, bruder._

_I watched over him the whole time._

_-Gilbert_

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: <em>And now we have plot! *evil laughter* Did anyone cry? I hope so. That's what I was aiming for. You didn't _really_ expect** **this to be all fluff, did you? I also warned you it might get sad, so...**

**Anyway, this story is nearing its end. I'm thinking another two chapters, and maybe an epilogue. Thanks for all the support so far, guys, it's been awesome ^-^ Two more faves and six more reviews until this story is as popular as Vocaloid! I really didn't expect anyone to read this thing XD**

**Another thing: What do you think of a sequel? No real plot, more like a little collection of fluff and sexy-time oneshots? You guys request what you want them to do, like that Livejournal kink meme de-anon thingy that I never really understood XD**

**Okay, love you guys~!**

**~Jel**


	6. Gradient

Matthew didn't know where he was, exactly.

One minute, he was about to walk out his front door to go to school, and the next thing he knew, he was in a dark, quiet place. So dark, in fact, that he couldn't see his hand in front of his own face. It was pitch dark. He blinked a few times just to be sure his eyes were open. For a long time, he debated whether or not to move. What if he was on the edge of something? Would there be more ground underneath his feet in front of him when he took a step, or would he fall into an abyss?

Finally, he figured he would rather have something happen than to be stuck where he was standing, so he took a tentative step forward. To his immense relief, the floor didn't end, and he didn't fall. He tread cautiously a bit more before deciding that everything was solid. The ground felt like packed dirt beneath his bare feet. Oh, he was barefoot. He quickly checked the rest of his body to make sure he was fully clothed, and found that he was.

Matthew, having nothing else to do in this dark, quiet place, started walking. His feet at least made noise when they made contact with the floor, and that kept him occupied for a while. He began counting his footsteps.

_One, two, three, four, five..._

He kept counting, but as he counted, he thought. He wondered if there was anything in place. A destination of sorts? Maybe somebody else here?

A light switch?

_Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine..._

For some reason, this situation didn't alarm Matthew. It was almost as if he was used to unusual things by now. He didn't know why, seeing as how nothing weird ever happened to him. He had a pretty normal life. Alfred's friend, Arthur was the one who sometimes claimed to see strange things. Monsters, mythical creatures...

Ghosts...

But Matthew had never seen or met such things.

_Two hundred thirteen, two hundred fourteen..._

Matthew was beginning to wonder if he was really getting anywhere in this place, when he stepped on something odd. He stopped in his tracks, and tried to identify what it was. It felt soft. It caressed his feet like thick carpet, but it was cold and a bit damp. A plant of some sort? Moss?

As he continued, the ground became more and more moss-covered until it was the only thing Matthew was walking on. It made his footsteps quieter, which made him a bit sad. The change in terrain didn't deter him, though, and he kept going wherever he was going.

_One thousand six, one thousand seven, one thousand eight…_

Suddenly, a soft wind picked up from somewhere and blew against his back. It was faint, but he could have sworn he heard leaves rustling in trees.

This was just too bizarre. Here he was, in this completely pitch black place, and yet he was hearing trees blowing in the wind.

Maybe he was going mad…?

_One thousand five hundred and twenty-eight, one thousand five hundred and twenty-nine…_

_Pi! Pipi!_

… No way. A bird, too? Matthew was starting to get frustrated with not being able to see anything around him. It sounded like he was in a forest of some sort, but all he could hear were the trees and that annoying bird-

Wait. Bird? Somehow… it sounded familiar. Bird… Birds… Birdie… Birdie? What did that have to do with anything? And yet… thinking of that word, he remembered something. He didn't know exactly what. The memory was very muddled, and far back in his mind. He could just barely remember somebody saying it.

"Birdie… I…"

The voice that had spoken was a bit harsh… and it had a German accent…

However, Matthew decided, it was far from unpleasant.

Something wonderful happened, then. He saw a tiny speck of light glowing in the distance. It cast just enough light for him to make out the outlines of trees. Ancient, towering trees stood proudly around him, with thick trunks and boughs full of dark leaves. They must have been centuries old, if not older to have gotten this big. That bird kept chirping, but he couldn't see where it was.

At least now he knew where to go.

He started walking towards the dim light.

_Five thousand two hundred and sixty, five thousand two hundred and sixty-one..._

Matthew trekked on for what seemed like forever. There was no sense of time here, and no matter how far he walked, the speck of light didn't get any closer. That damn bird was still chirping, and that voice kept trying to break through the surface of his foggy memories. It spoke about love and death, about sadness and pain and fine lines crossed. It kept calling him Birdie for some reason, as if it was an affectionate nickname. Matthew couldn't shake the feeling that he and the voice were intimately connected somehow.

It kept telling him he loved him.

Were they... lovers before?

The light ahead of him got a little brighter, and seemed closer.

_Ten thousand one hundred and sixty-eight..._

Questions spiraled around Matthew's head as he tried to remember who this voice belonged to. Each time he found a clue or an answer, either as a hint from the voice or from thinking by himself, the light got a little bit brighter and closer. He now knew what this person was to him. He was his lover. He had silvery white hair and bright red eyes. He'd listened to Matthew when everybody else had ignored him. He loved pancakes, and maple syrup, and playing in the snow. He had an odd laugh that just seemed to fit him.

He was also a ghost.

The terrain slowly changed from damp moss to soft grass. He was no longer in the forest, but out in the open in a wide field full of tall grass and flowers. It was still too dim to make out colors, the light matching that of predawn's.

If only I knew his name, he thought, I bet it would get so much brighter in here. That would be amazing… fantastic… awesome…

"_My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt and I'm the awesomest person you'll ever meet!"_

Matthew's breath hitched at his revelation.

"Gilbert..." he whispered, and was surprised by his own voice. He realized that this was the first time he had talked out loud in this place. When he spoke, everything went completely silent. Even the bird, who had been chirping nonstop throughout his journey, promptly stopped its noise-making.

"That's his name, isn't it?" he shouted as loud as he could into the light.

"GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT!"

For ten agonizing seconds, nothing happened.

Then, the glow exploded.

It exploded into a huge ball of white light as bright and beautiful as the sun. The explosion was so powerful that it knocked Matthew onto his butt, and all he could do was gaze in wonder as it grew and got so close to him he could have reached out and touched it.

A shining, winged form emerged from the light. Matthew couldn't make out the face, but when it spoke, he was reminded immediately of someone from before.

"It seems like you've remembered him."

"... Arthur? Is that you?"

The being chuckled. "No. I am Britannia Angel, guardian of this gate. And you..." He paused. "... Do you know why you are here, Matthew?"

"No... All of this seems like a really vivid dream... Did I pass out?"

"No."

"Um... I'm in a coma?"

"This isn't a dream, Matthew. It's all very real."

It didn't take him long to realize what the angel meant by that. "I'm dead, aren't I?" The angel nodded.

"Indeed." Matthew was dismayed at the angel's affirmation.

"What will happen to me? Where is Gilbert! I want to see him!"

"Please calm yourself. Gilbert Beilschmidt is fine and safe. He has been grieving your passing for several months now, as immortals typically do not forget things easily. As for you seeing him, well..."

The angel floated aside and gestured to the ball of light, presenting it.

"This is the gateway to the afterlife." he announced, none-too-subtly changing the subject. "You have three options. One: you may come with me to the afterlife, where you will stay for the rest of eternity. You will never hunger, never thirst, and you will live in paradise."

"Two: you may stay here." Matthew grimaced, and the angel laughed. "It's not as bad here as you think. This is actually a wonderful place. Worlds like this are of your own creation, did you know? You could stay here and help it grow. You could create creatures and people to live here, make your own little town, even a nation..." The angel trailed off with longing evident in his voice.

"… Um… Mister Britannia Angel sir? My third option?"

"Oh!" he said, as if Matthew had actually interrupted his train of thought. "Of course. Your third and final option…" Matthew leaned forward in anticipation. Finally, he would get to become a ghost and see Gilbert again!

"Though I'm quite sure you would never choose this…"

The violet eyed teen wondered why the angel would say such a thing. Of course he wanted to become a ghost! It was his only chance. He brushed it off as playful sarcasm.

"… is to go to Hell."

Yes!

… Wait…

_What?_

Matthew's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in shock and despair. He was completely frozen.

"E-excuse me…?" he stuttered. "Hell?"

The angel nodded. "Well… yes. I didn't think you would want to go, but it _is_ protocol to give that option. Some people feel quite guilty about the things they've done in life and actually choose to go there." He crossed his arms. "Did you want to-?"

"NO!" Matthew shouted immediately to stop the angel. "I mean… Are you sure those are the only choices? There's not a fourth? I couldn't…"

The angel cocked his head to the side. "You couldn't what?"

Matthew fidgeted and looked down. "Couldn't I… um… go back? To Earth, I mean?"

"Why? You will be nothing but a spirit. No human would be able to see or hear you."

"I know. But…" He got up from the ground and brushed himself off. "There's somebody there who needs me. And I need him."

Britannia chuckled. "You're speaking of Gilbert, am I correct?" Matthew blushed lightly and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess there's only one thing we can do about that, isn't there?" Even though Matthew couldn't see his face, he could picture the angel smiling through his words. He wondered if he not only sounded like Arthur, but also looked like him.

Britannia snapped his fingers, and the ball of light changed colors, from a harsh white to a soft yellow that looked more like sunlight.

"Here we are. This will take you to your home. I suggest you take these."

A pair of shoes materialized on the ground in front of Matthew. He picked them up and examined them with raised eyebrows.

"Shoes?"

"Of course. You don't want to walk around barefooted forever, do you?"

Matthew supposed that made sense, and put the shoes on. They were comfortable.

"Well, if that's all, then it's time for you to go." The angel made it so that the light was at ground level so Matthew could walk through. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Matthew. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, Britannia!" Matthew said with a smile taking over his face. He felt like crying from happiness, but his tears wouldn't fall here. He approached the light cautiously, and reached out to touch it. It was warm and welcoming. He walked through, sparing one last glance at the wonderful angel. He was waving goodbye to him. And for a split second, as he was enveloped by the light, he thought he saw the angel's face smiling at him, bright green eyes shining.

* * *

><p>Matthew knew exactly where he was.<p>

One minute he was walking through a portal of sunlight, and the next he was in a dark, quiet place. That was probably because it was nighttime in front of his house. It wasn't that dark, though, because the street lamps were on. It was quiet, though, because when he looked around, he saw snow gently falling from the sky. An inch had already accumulated on the ground. He was suddenly grateful for the shoes he'd been given.

For a long moment, he debated whether to take a step forward and open the door. What if his brother heard him? Or worse... What if Gilbert wasn't there?

Finally, he decided that he would rather have something happen than to be stuck standing in the cold.

He took a tentative step forward and opened the door.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy? :3 See, good ending ^^ BUT REMEMBER, ONE MORE CHAPTER! Tell me if you want them to have sex in the epilogue, kay? I can't promise it'll be the best, since I've never written smut before...**

**I swore to myself that I would get this up before Spring Break, because after that it'll be a WHOLE WEEK without access to my laptop****. That means next chapter will be later than you're used to, sorry! But it's the awesome, fluffy, squeal-inducing happy ending you've all been waiting for! You can wait just a little longer, right? :3**

**Thank you to everybody who's followed so far! Reviews make my day, but I'll be late with replies past Friday night.**

**Cheers~**

**~Jel**


	7. Return

It had been nearly six months since Birdie's death, and Gilbert was at his wit's end. It didn't matter how much time passed, he still got up every morning expecting to see Birdie sleeping peacefully next to him, and every time he was disappointed. It didn't help that Arthur visited Alfred more often, and frequently sent pitying glances his way, making him feel even worse. Sometimes he regretted ever meeting Birdie. If only he had known that this was how it would end, he would have never saved Birdie all that time ago.

Actually... now that he thought about it, it had been exactly a year since they'd met. How cruel the world seemed to be to him. It was two in the morning right now. It was even snowing! It was a perfect recreation of the night they met, and it was painful. A wave of bitter nostalgia passed over Gilbert in the silence of Birdie's bedroom as the snow outside fluttered to the ground.

Gilbert reclined onto Birdie's bed and tried to make himself relax. It had been so long, and he still spent most of his time in Birdie's room, waiting for him to come home from school. As stupid as that mindset was, it was better than trying to cope with the fact that Birdie was never coming back.

Maybe it was about time he did cope, though. Get over him. He had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted, and he was letting Birdie get in the way of that.

But what was the point of doing anything without Birdie...?

The sound of the front door being opened filtered through the walls. Gilbert thought nothing of it. It was probably Alfred's worthless father coming in to do who-knows-what after his trip to nobody-cares-where. If anything, it just depressed Gilbert more by reminding him how little Birdie's father cared for his own son.

That is, it depressed him until he heard a very familiar someone call into the house.

"Gilbert! I'm home!"

Gilbert stopped breathing. No, this wasn't possible. He was thinking too much. This wasn't real.

And yet, he clearly heard footsteps on the kitchen's linoleum floor advancing to the carpeted hall with the bedrooms.

"Gil?" The person knocked on the door. "Are you in there?" Gilbert didn't move a muscle. He refused to believe that he was actually _back_. That was a ridiculous, hopeful notion that would just hurt in the end.

"Well…" the hallucination said. "I guess you've moved on, huh? Don't worry, I get it. I'm dead, right? So there's nobody to wait for…" He paused. The next time he spoke, Gilbert heard tears through his voice. "But now there is. I came back for you, I really did. A-and… You can't hear me, but… I love you, Gilbert. I always will."

After that, footsteps were heard walking away, and Gilbert had a decision to make. A simple one, but a decision nonetheless.

He shot up off of the bed, threw the door open, and whipped his head to look down the hall at a person walking away with a hung head.

"Birdie!"

The retreating figure stopped in its tracks. Then, his head slowly turned to reveal his eyes.

Brilliant, beautiful, violet eyes.

Gilbert wasted no time in tackling Matthew into a bone-crushing hug. He didn't want to cry in front of Matthew, not now, but tears still pricked at his eyes. It felt too good to be true, so he clung to the blond as if he would disappear at any moment, and didn't let go.

"Oh, Birdie, Birdie, Birdie, I'm _insane_. You're really here, aren't you? But you were dead, but now you're back, and _Gott_ I missed you, I love you, Ich liebe dich, Ich liebe dich so sehr Oh Gott, ich glaube, weil Sie wirklich, wirklich hier bist ich bin verrückt geworden, und-"

"Gilbert! Slow down, I can't understand you! Are you speaking German? I'll start talking in French if you don't stop-" Gilbert sobbed into the blond's shoulder, effectively cutting him off. "… Gil? Are you all right?"

"You died." Gilbert tried to deadpan while crying. "You were dead for six whole months, and it was all my fault that you died, and I thought I would never see you again, and… No, I'm not fine, and… Goddammit, look at me…"

Matthew finally returned the albino's embrace and rubbed soothing circles into his back. "It's okay, Gilbert…" he whispered. "Shh, it's okay, I'm here now, right? That's what matters… Everything's fine…"

"Don't scare me like that again, okay? Promise?"

Matthew chuckled. "Promise."

They held each other like that for a long time, with Matthew calming down Gilbert, and Gilbert holding on to Matthew as if his sanity depended on the contact.

Alfred couldn't hear them.

They were the same now.

"I missed you so much, Birdie."

"I know, Gilbert. I missed you, too." Matthew pulled away. "Now, let's go outside and make some snow angels, okay?"

Gilbert rubbed his eyes dry of tears the best he could and nodded excitedly.

"Okay!"

* * *

><p>"Alfred, you realize that you have snow angels all over your yard, right?"<p>

"Yeah, it's probably just the neighbor's kids. They did the same thing last year. I dunno why they don't just play in their own yard, but it doesn't bother me."

Arthur shrugged and trudged behind Alfred over his snow-covered walkway, when something caught his eye. There was something written underneath two of the angels. They were made close to the house, so it was easy to make out what they said.

_Gilbert_ was written under one, and _Matthew_ under the other.

Startled, Arthur stumbled backwards and cried out as he slipped on the snow and fell. Alfred heard the commotion and turned around in time to see him fall.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked with a laugh as he helped Arthur up. "You look like you just saw a ghost!"

The irony of Alfred's comment was too perfect, and Arthur found himself laughing with him. "Ha-ha, yes, I guess so! I'm fine; I just slipped on the snow here." He brushed himself off and started up the steps to the house. "Let's get inside, poppet. I'm cold."

"'kay. Want me to fix us some hot chocolate?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

The two entered the house and stripped themselves of their cold outer wear and let them hang on the coat rack. Alfred got some instant cocoa and mugs from the pantry and set to boiling the water. Arthur excused himself to go to the bathroom.

He didn't go to the bathroom, though.

He went to Matthew's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Arthur."

Arthur's heart pounded excitedly as he let himself in like Matthew instructed.

The deceased young man was sitting cheerfully next to his lover, a smile spread over his face.

"When did you get back here?" Arthur whispered frantically.

Matthew's smile just got bigger. "Early this morning. I was in that purgatory place for longer than I thought."

"Six months, Matthew! Six months! Do you know how depressed and worried Gilbert was for you?" He didn't mention how the ghost's negative energy affected Alfred.

His smile fell. "I know, I'm sorry it took so long… it's just-"

"Just what? There's no excuse for-"

"What are you guys talking about?" Gilbert interrupted. "Birdie couldn't help how long it took him to get through that place! Did you think of how scary it must have been for him to walk around, _alone_, in the _dark_? No, of course you didn't! We've already talked about it. Frankly, I'm just glad he actually remembered me and decided to come back!" He was positively fuming at Arthur at this point.

"All right, _I'm_ sorry." Arthur decided to give up this argument. He just couldn't win with Gilbert, could he? "I'm glad you're here, Matthew. Really. No matter how long it took, it was a strong thing you did, coming back."

Matthew gave a timid smile and thanked Arthur.

"Hey, Artie! The cocoa's done!" Alfred called from the kitchen. "I'm drinking yours if you don't hurry up!"

"Don't do that! For heaven's sake, be patient for once!" Arthur yelled back. He spared a final glance at the two ghosts. "Good for you two getting back together. I hope you're happy." With that, he sped out the door to rescue his hot chocolate. "Nonononono don't drink it- Aaahhhh, you already did…" Alfred laughed loudly at Arthur's expense.

"Hahaha! Dude, this is mine anyways. Here." Alfred handed him the other mug full of warm, sweet chocolate drink. There were even little marshmallows in it.

"Thanks." Arthur said as he took a sip. It scalded his tongue, but after being out in the snow for so long, it felt good. The liquid ran down his throat and warmed him up from the inside. He let out a contented sigh. "Let's go sit in the living room." he said, and led the way.

"Okay," Alfred responded with a shrug. The two sat down on the couch together, both careful not to spill their hot chocolate. They sat in a comfortable silence, just sipping their drinks and admiring the snow-covered landscape outside. Alfred took it upon himself to light the gas logs in the fireplace, so now there was a nice fire going to keep themselves warm.

"Hey," Alfred said, breaking the silence. "Do you think… I dunno… my house suddenly has a more cheerful atmosphere? It wasn't like this last night, you know?"

Arthur closed his eyes and smiled into his drink. "I know what you mean. It does feel more positive here now, doesn't it? I wonder why…" He snickered. "It's not like you to read the atmosphere, though. What brought this on?"

Alfred pouted and punched Arthur playfully on the shoulder. "Hey! I read the atmosphere! Sometimes…" Arthur snorted. "Maybe you're just rubbing off on me. Yeah! That's it! You're contagious, you know that?"

"Oh, am I?" Arthur smirked at him. "Is that why you like me?"

"Maaaaybe…"

They giggled like idiots, and Alfred leaned in for a kiss that was warm and sweet on account of their hot drinks.

"Kesesesese! See, I told you they were together now!"

"Wow… Sorry I didn't believe you at first. I just never thought that either one would ever confess!"

"I know, right? They're both so stubborn! They look good together, though, huh?"

"Yeah, they do. Great job, Arthur!"

Arthur tried to ignore the ghosts' conversation behind him, but that's hard to do when it's about your love life. He pulled away from Alfred with an exasperated sigh. Alfred was confused.

"What's wrong? Why'd you stop? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." The two behind him were in hysterics. He would probably go insane if he stayed around those two much longer. He closed his eyes and kissed Alfred again, this time as more of a distraction so he could show his middle finger to Gilbert and Matthew.

Something told him it was going to be a long eternity for the rest of the world.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My baby... It's almost done! *tears of joy* I threw in a little USUK at the end. Sorry if you don't dig that o~o**

**This was excruciatingly awkward to write while at my grandparent's house... Ha-ha, but it's done! I'll try my hardest to write the epilogue, I promise.**

**I feel like my writing style has drastically changed within these seven chapters... Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Let me know in a review!**

**I hope you enjoyed this latest installment of Ringing Insanity!**

**~Jel**


	8. Union

Matthew was exceedingly happy to be back among the living with Gilbert. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if he had never met the ghost all that time ago. It would have been more boring, that was for sure. Would he have gone insane on that night with the ringing if it hadn't been for Gilbert? It was possible. Of course, he wouldn't be dead right now if that were the case. Probably just locked up in some asylum, he supposed.

Yes, being a ghost with Gilbert was very nice. They had all the time in the world to spend together. Nobody to tell them what to do, or what was right and wrong. He found he could talk to Gilbert for ages about anything, really, and he never got bored. It was also easy to go out to see a movie, or go to the zoo or a carnival because… well, nobody could see them. It was almost as if they were a normal couple, going on normal dates. But most of the time they just sat together and held hands, or kissed, or enjoyed the silence.

Today was a normal day. There wasn't much to do, but since Alfred had gone to Arthur's to spend the night and not the other way around, they had a lot of real alone time. And Gilbert seemed to want to do something with that alone time.

Matthew was sitting on the living room couch, reading a book, when Gilbert sauntered up and bent down to kiss him. Matthew smiled and kissed him back at first, but then the albino licked at his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Matthew happily obliged, putting the book down and scooting over on the couch so Gilbert could sit and be closer. They fought for dominance for a bit (a battle Gilbert won) while things gradually heated up and got more intense. It wasn't until Gilbert's hand found its way down to feel Matthew's ass that the blond's breath hitched and he pulled away.

"E-eh? W-what are you doing?" he stammered. Gilbert smirked.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, and gave the blond's ass a squeeze. "Or did you not want to…?" A blush exploded onto Matthew's face, and he squirmed around in Gilbert's hold.

"N-no, I want to!" Matthew was mortified when the albino grinned and he realized exactly what he'd said. He couldn't just take something like that back, though, could he? "But… What I meant was… um… Can we? Do… you know… _That_?" he squeaked nervously.

Gilbert pulled Matthew close to him and spoke quietly at his ear. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times." he murmured. "We can do _anything_ that humans can do. Even this." He kneaded his ass again and softly bit at his earlobe, drawing a small moan from the blond. He was starting to get hot from this kind of touching…

"O-oh…" was all Matthew could say. He probably sounded like an idiot, just saying oh, but it was the only thing he trusted himself to say when his focus was on what Gilbert's hands were doing. They moved up, away from Matthew's backside, and slipped under his shirt, leaving tantalizingly light touches up his torso. They lifted the fabric up and over his head, swiftly removing the obstructing clothing. His hands came to rest upon the blond's smooth chest, fingers splaying out on the left side over his pounding heart. Gilbert looked down at his own hand and Matthew at Gilbert's face.

"See? It's still there. It's still beating." Gilbert whispered. He took Matthew's right hand with his left and placed it over his own heart. Through the fabric of his shirt Matthew felt his heartbeat as well. "I have one, too. Death can't change that. It can't change this, either." He captured Matthew's lips in another kiss, but this one was softer, slower, more sensual. Matthew felt like he was melting.

Something came over him then. It was unfamiliar, but suddenly he _wanted_ Gilbert in ways different than before. He wanted to be as close as possible; to touch and to feel; to become _his_ and only his. The feeling of desire bubbled up within him and he pressed closer and more firmly into Gilbert, taking the initiative to turn the kiss passionate for once. The albino seemed surprised, but he didn't object and pulled Matthew as close to him as possible, until the blond was practically on his lap. The kisses became sloppy, and fleeting touches turned into groping and rutting against each other. Matthew eventually pulled away, panting.

"Should we- hah- bedroom?" he gasped. Gilbert stared, uncomprehending, until it finally clicked what Matthew meant. He grinned.

"Oh... Okay, yeah."

They got up from the couch and Gilbert all but dragged Matthew down the hall to his bedroom, shedding the rest of their clothes and stopping to kiss along the way. Once they finally reached their destination, Matthew found himself being set on the bed so he was lying on his back. Gilbert planted his hands on either side of Matthew's head and straddled his waist, staring down at him with lusty red eyes.

"Isn't this your first time?" Gilbert asked, seemingly concerned. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Matthew hesitated. This was all real, wasn't it? The blood rushing through his veins, the erratic beating of his heart, the incredibly sexy way that Gilbert loosely pinned him to the bed, and, embarrassingly enough, the way his cock twitched in anticipation when he thought about what the albino was about to do to him; it all screamed at him that this was what they both wanted right now. After this, there was no going back. Not that they would want to, of course. They were lovers, after all; Gilbert had said it himself.

"I want it, Gil," he breathed. "I want it so bad…" The albino let out a low growl of approval and ground their erections together, the sheer friction sending spikes of pleasure throughout Matthew's body and making him moan. He couldn't believe that _he_ was actually making these sounds…

Gilbert put three fingers to the blond's lips.

"Suck," he commanded. Matthew was confused.

"Why?" he asked. He didn't know much about the mechanics of... to put it bluntly, gay sex. He knew where everything _went_ (Matthew mentally cringed at the thought of _that _going inside of him), but what did spit have to do with anything?

"Because," Gilbert explained. "We don't have any lube, and I don't wanna hurt you. I promised myself I would be gentle with if we ever got to this. This really could be painful for you."

The albino seemed to be trying to give himself a reason to stop. Matthew, who knew that they both wanted to keep going, took the fingers into his mouth and began to suck on them lightly. He licked the digits, making sure each one was covered evenly in saliva. Gilbert was shocked yet again by Matthew's positive reaction to his advances, but as usual, didn't complain.

Once his fingers were well-coated and slick, Gilbert took them out of Matthew's mouth and pressed them against the blond's entrance. Matthew's breath caught in his throat. This was it.

"You might want to spread your legs... It'll be easier." Matthew did as he was told. "This might be a little uncomfortable..." Gilbert muttered before slipping a finger in. The blond's face twisted at the odd sensation. It didn't hurt at all; it was just... foreign. He tried to relax and adjust to the intrusion, but found it difficult. Gilbert remained patient with him, and waited until Matthew nodded before inserting another finger. It was a little uncomfortable, just like Gilbert said it would be, but the former knowledge didn't keep him from letting out a grunt of discomfort when the albino began scissoring and curling his fingers. Soon a third was added, and Matthew began to feel a dull sting from being stretched so far. Surely this was enough... And yet Gilbert kept prodding, searching for something.

"G-Gil, what are you doing?" he whimpered. "This feels weird..."

"In a second..." Gilbert muttered under his breath, his face the picture of concentration. "Where is it...?"

"Where's wha-" Suddenly, Gilbert brushed against something inside of Matthew that made the blond throw his head back and buck up in pleasure, trying to get the albino to hit that spot again. "Ohh, Gilbert, do that again!" he moaned.

"Heh, found it." Gilbert said in accomplishment. He rubbed against the spot a few more times with his fingers for good measure, leaving Matthew a hot, writhing mess, clinging to the bed sheets. Every stroke felt like fire spreading throughout his body. "Are you ready for more, Birdie?"

"Yes!" he tried to yell, but the words came out in a hoarse whisper. "Please!"

That was all the incentive Gilbert needed to remove his fingers and position himself at Matthew's entrance, strong hands holding up his hips.

"I'm putting it in, now." That was the last thing Matthew heard before Gilbert slowly pushed inside him. It was definitely bigger than his fingers, and even though Gilbert was going very slowly and gently as promised, it still hurt. He couldn't suppress a hiss of pain.

"G-Gil… It hurts…" he whined.

"I know, Birdie, it'll get better, I swear." Gilbert said in an attempt to get Matthew to relax, but it didn't work. He released his hold on Matthew's hips with one of his hands, using it instead to stroke the blond's erection to distract him. That was much more effective, and this time Matthew whined in want rather than pain. "There you go…" He pushed the rest of the way in without complaint. "The worst part's over."

"Really?"

"Really." Matthew sighed in relief and relaxed a little.

"That wasn't… so bad…" Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"What were you expecting? Blood?" Matthew didn't say anything, and Gilbert chuckled. "It won't be this bad again." Matthew nodded awkwardly. The pain was starting to die down, now. It really hadn't been _that_ bad. In fact, it was starting to feel odd _without_ Gilbert moving.

"M-move." Matthew said, rolling his hips impatiently.

Gilbert obliged enthusiastically, carefully pulling out and thrusting back in at different angles, looking for that bundle of nerves again. Eventually, after nearly a minute of experimenting, he found it. Matthew screamed and saw stars flash at the edge of his vision. He blindly hooked his knees over Gilbert's shoulders to get more of him inside. The albino paused for barely a heartbeat before continuing, making sure to hit that spot over and over again in a steady rhythm.

"G-Gilbert! Ha-harder! Oh, _mon dieu!_ Please!" he yelled as Gilbert slammed harder into him and picked up the pace. Each impact sent white-hot pleasure through his body. His toes curled, and he felt heat start to pool in his abdomen. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"Gil, I'm gonna- AH!" Matthew let out a final yell of ecstasy as he was pushed over the edge, coming on their stomachs. Gilbert managed to thrust several more times before he moaned out Matthew's name and came deep inside him. He pulled out and collapsed next to the blond, letting out a contented sigh. Matthew lay still for a few moments and just listened to his heart calm down and the breathing of his partner. A pleasant, relaxing warmth had settled over him, and more than anything right now he was tired. Was this what they called afterglow…?

"So," Gilbert said, looking over to Matthew and breaking the comfortable silence. "How was it?"

"That was… incredible." Matthew breathed in response. Gilbert sniggered.

"You're pretty loud during sex, Birdie." He poked at his side playfully. Matthew blushed and slapped at his hand indignantly.

"A-am not!" he squeaked. Gilbert just laughed again.

"Yes you are! You were screaming my name every other second!" He smirked. If Matthew hadn't been red before, then he definitely was now. "It's okay, though." the albino assured him. "You're normally so quiet. Even when you're talking to me. I love it when you scream my name." Just then, Gilbert seemed to notice how tired Matthew was. "Here." he said, pulling the blankets over them. "You'll get cold if you sleep like that."

Matthew just rolled his eyes and grumbled about never going to be able to get the logic of being a ghost before snuggling into the albino's side. "I love you, too, you maniac."

Gilbert laughed one last time before he returned Matthew's embrace. They fell asleep holding each other just like that and woke up the same way. It felt like a blissful and magical moment to Matthew, and he didn't ever want it to end.

He wished for many more moments like this. He figured he would get them.

They had eternity, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *I'm pretty sure my parents have forgotten about this, so I'm comfortable posting the epilogue again. I hope you enjoyed~<strong>

**THE END. FOR REALS THIS TIME. THANK GAWD.**

**And that, my dear readers, is how you fail at writing a sex scene :D I'm not writing another one. ._.**

**That's it for this story! Now I can finally get back to Vocaloid, and after that, Dear. Tell me what you thought of this little story of mine in a review! ^^**

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed, faved, subscribed, and overall put up with this story to the end. It means a lot :) I LOVE YOU PEOPLE~**

**~Jel**


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